There must be something strangely sacred in salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.

— Khalil Gibran

There's nothing more unendurable in life than disagreeable revelations. What a mind cannot conceive, how can one accept? Forcing a heart is folly, as it's bargaining happiness for eternity.

He stares at her flabbergasted, unable to comprehend what she has just said. If she has joked with him to bug him, he doesn't find it funny, at all.

"Is this some other trick of yours, habibi?"

"If it was, didn't you say my tricks are getting old for you now?"

"This one is surely new."

"Because it's no trick, Burq." She sighs and looks away out of the window on the opposite wall. "I speak truth."

The fading sunlight at dusk ease on her face, beautifying it, leaving her dark eyes as they reflect it back and shimmer, unveiling some secrets while leaving out the others.

"Did we have this conversation before?" he asks tersely.

"Yes, but on a serious note."

His heart begins to sink as his brain tries to put the pieces together. He takes in a gulp of air.

"Look at me."

Leyla does so at his command.

"Do you even know what you're telling me?" He has an edge to his tone.

"I do."

The clock ticks and seconds slip by. None of them speaks. He's short of words, and she probably has a lot to say.

"What," he questions her with a twisted gut, "what was your answer?"

She smiles and leans down to his level. Like on rare occasions, Burq sees pain and conflict in her orbs, raw like an open wound, instead of her usual mystery she carries in them. Her smile is a lie to deceive her emotions, he knows.

She places her palm over his cheek and her thumb grazes up his cheekbone. "I said yes."

His sanity goes haywire. His limbs feels numb. He parts his lips to respond but nothing comes out except a sound of disbelief. He sounds like choking.

Stupefied, he let's out a startled laugh. "No no no, absolutely no. Never." He takes hold of her wrist and removes her hand from his face, but doesn't let her go. "You're telling me we're... we're married?" He shakes his head. "Impossible. Do you even know the gravity of what you're saying? I cannot even think of getting married, let alone actually be."

In contrast to his outburst, she remains stoic and calm, as if they're shooting the breeze in his study room- as if she expected this reaction out of him. Her facade bothers him.

Leyla licks her lips and supports herself against the desk with her free hand as she keeps looming over him. "You always wanted to know why I'm doing all this? Why I'm taking care of you? I'm only giving you answers, Burq."

"No—"

"Yes," she cuts him sharply. "You told me I shouldn't feel obliged to you but I do, because you're my husband. You always asked me who I was, so I'm telling you now: I'm your wife, Burq."

His eyes feel dry from not blinking and popping out. He quickly releases her wrist. "Oh my holy Lord of all worlds, this woman will be the death of me." He exhales in a hiss as heart slams against his breastbone.

Leyla straightens and takes a step back from him. "Don't worry, Burq. This marriage only remains in papers. We were never like a couple to begin with. Never even shared a room, let alone a bed. So you're still as much of a man as you were before marrying me."

The irony in her words is a slap to his ego. He stares daggers at her.

"Why are you telling me all this now? All this while if you could keep me in denial, play with me, why end this game of yours now when my memory is still dumb?"

"Because I'm running out of time," she replies effortlessly.

He digs his fingers in the leather of his seat, grinding his teeth, his anger rising.

"I didn't play you, Burq," she adds. "I traded my heart for our relationship and lost it. Why does it upset you when you still have yours? What have you lost, habibi?"

"You don't understand," his voice comes out strained, "I cannot be married. Not to you, not to any other woman."

"Because no one else is Doha, I understand."

"Leyla," he warns, glaring at her.

"You don't have to be married to me."

He blinks and tilts his head in puzzlement. She comes to kneel in front of him, taking his hands in hers.

"You can divorce me, and no one will ever know we were ever married."

He snatches his hands back from hers, looking at her in shock. If he was baffled before, now he's absolutely lost.

"Are you sane, woman?"

"Completely."

"Why did you even marry me in the first place if that's what you wanted?"

"Things are way complicated than how you're viewing them. You don't know my side of the story."

"Then tell me, damn it." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Have I not already asked you for answers multiple times?"

"Burq," she takes back his hands in hers, "we both got married to escape our pasts. But where you were trying to forget it, I was only temporarily hiding away from it. Now you've failed in forgetting it, and my time has been reached."

He chuckles humorlessly. "Leyla, are you seriously telling me we married for a few months?"

"No," she shakes her head, "we married for life. But we've outlived this said life."

"Then damned be such life."

"Burq—"

"No," he puts his finger to her lips, "I know you already left me before my accident. Waleed told me. You came back to me only out of pity."

"Of course not," she protests.

"I cannot believe this love of yours, Leyla."

She closes her eyes as her shoulders drop, then stands up and lifts her chin. "Only God can make you believe me, because I don't know of any way to do so, especially when you couldn't do so before either."

He smirks. "That's it? We're done then?"

"I'll stay with you until you get well. Six months from now, I'll leave for my homeland, Pakistan. I've made promises and I don't intend on breaking them."

"Be it mean breaking your marriage instead?"

"You don't want this marriage yourself, Burq."

They stare at each other hard, none of them backing away. The gears in his head twist and turn, adjusting to these new revelations and connecting the dots, until some odd clicks in his head.

His encounter with Spogmay.

"What in your past are you hiding away from, habibi? Or who, precisely?" He dares her with his eyes not to fake it anymore as he spits, "Asfandyar?"

The horror that colors her features is a stark contrast to her placid mask she's always wearing. He sees as her jaw goes limp and her lips part, utterly stunned.

"How do you," her breath hitches and she swallows thickly, "how do you know of him?"

His heart starts beating maddeningly, erratically like a furious horse. He feels displeased as he starts getting doubts. What is this jealousy?

"It doesn't matter. What matters is who he is to you?" he demands.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't answer my question."

"Careful, for too much of details all at once will be difficult for you to digest." She grabs her handbag, preparing to leave.

"Leyla?" he stops her.

She turns back to him.

"Whoever he is, stay away from him."

He watches the storm create havoc in her eyes, like a city left in ruination after a disaster— like demons left free in pandemonium. She carries sheathed swords in her eyes; they can pierce one's heart and chest through and through.

"You've no right to order me."

He grins slyly. "But I've just learned of all my rights, habibi. I think as your husband, I absolutely has the right to ask you for this."

She bites back her tongue, giving him a brief look of disapproval before walking towards the door.

"One more thing," he stops her again.

She faces him once more.

"I don't make any promises on divorcing you, my darling wife."

This time, she strangles him with her glare. But he doesn't back off and competes her look. Clenching her jaw to help herself from retorting— which he knows takes all of her willpower- she leaves his study room and closes the door after her with a loud bang.

He takes a few minutes to absorb everything that has escalated before it all comes crashing down on him like an apocalypse. A throbbing pain begins to split his skull.

"Waleed!" he booms, standing up and taking hold of his crutches. He walks out to the living room as fast as he can with a splinted leg.

"Your lordship?" Waleed comes rushing to him.

"How the hell can you keep something like this from me?!" Burq leaps at him and grabs hold of the front of his shirt, pulling Waleed to himself, barely managing to balance himself on one leg. "Huh?!"

"What are you talking about, my lord?"

"Leyla!"

It takes a few seconds before realization flashes in Waleed's eyes. He stutters, trying to find his voice to explain, "Her ladyship wanted to tell you herself, my lord. She was worried about your well-being."

Her ladyship. The words ring in his ears until he goes deaf, as if he has been waiting for a confirmation. Burq pushes him back.

"Damn your lies! You plotted with her against me."

"No, my—"

He raises his hand to silence him. "Go get me our wedding documents. If I've burnt them along with everything else, then bring them back to me from the ashes. I don't care, search up every corner of this house, but I want those papers in my hand before sunrise."

"As y-you please, my lord."

Burq falls down on the living room couch, suddenly all exhausted and drained of life. How can everything change so much so soon? Is this another dream of his? Surely a nightmare.

As Waleed begins to stride away hurriedly, Burq calls him back.

"Waleed?"

The butler anxiously meets his master's relentless gaze. Burq motions him near and he gingerly steps closer.

"I expect you to be honest with what I ask of you now. I swear upon the name of one and only Lord, you won't find me very forgiving on another such mistake."

Waleed gulps and nods hesitantly.

"Why did Leyla leave me?" he inquires straightforwardly.

The butler keeps his eyes downcast as he responds, "Please excuse my bluntness, my lord, but you will not like it hearing from me. It was between you and her ladyship, and I think it's best she tells you herself."

His curiosity burns him. Was it because of this other man, Asfandyar? Is this why Waleed is reluctant to tell him himself? He decides to take his word for it and dismisses the affair, not wanting to risk it and bruise his honor.

He looks up at Waleed. "Leyla said I changed for a reason she doesn't know about. If we were good to begin with, what went wrong? Do you know anything of this reason?"

Waleed glances up at him and knots his fingers nervously. Burq is sure he's not going to like this reason either.

"Her ladyship doesn't know of it," he tells him, "but I gave you a news his lordship, Raad, had left for you. And you didn't take well to it, my lord."

Burq leans forward attentively. "What news?"

The way Waleed's eyes flicks around is unnerving and irritates his patience.

"Waleed?" Burq demands harshly.

"Lord Raad and lady Doha are expecting their first child," Waleed blurts. "They're going to have a son, my lord."

Hid breathing slows to a stop. His heart contracts agonizingly; he wants to tear open his chest, pull it out, and throw it away. The boiling rage he's feeling in his body is enough to melt metal; he's surprised how his veins hasn't melted already. But he fails to contain it.

"ARGH!"

He grips the coffee table and flips it. Everything on it goes down in loud clashes. The glass shattering to pieces, creating chaos on the floor.

"My lord." Waleed runs to his side. "Your lordship, please—"

"Leave," he grits. "Get me those damned documents before I lose my remaining sanity."

Waleed knows better than disobeying and quickly disappears. Burq tugs at his bangs forcefully, clenching his eyes shut and throwing back his head. He pants to get air in his lungs.

"Doha might have ruined me, but I won't allow you to do the same, Leyla. I can't let you go after you've kept my heart beating so far."

➳

The truth long awaited is finally out. Thoughts?

My college starts tomorrow and my hours have been extended, so my usual Thursday updates have to suffer. That's why I decided to update earlier so as not to make you guys wait any longer.

No promises for the future though. Please bear with me.

Remember to share your love, vote and comment.

➳